Chapter One — Wake
The first thing Saffron Beaumont noticed was the smell.
It was sweet, almost cloying, like cheap perfume mixed with antiseptic, and it made her stomach twist. Her eyelids fluttered, heavy as if weighted with lead. When she finally opened them, the room was a wash of red velvet and gold trim, too ornate to be a hotel, too pristine to be a home.
Her head throbbed, every pulse in her temples syncing with a sudden, sickening realization: she didn’t remember how she got here.
She sat up. The bed was huge, carved wood framing sheets as soft as clouds. A chill ran down her spine. Velvet curtains blocked the windows, but tiny red dots blinking from the corners of the ceiling caught her attention. Cameras.
She swallowed. “Hello?” Her voice cracked. No reply.
Jayden Cross woke somewhere else entirely. Cold, tiled floors pressed into his skin, and a claw-foot bathtub cut off his escape. He tried to move, only to slam his head against the sink.
Across the mirror, thick red lipstick spelled out:
SUBMIT OR SUFFER
The letters dripped slightly, as if they were alive. He rubbed his face, nauseated. “What the hell…?”
Above him, the tiny red light of a camera stared. It was like the eye of a predator.
Mira Quinn’s awakening was quieter, but no less alarming. A hum of electronics ran behind the walls, almost imperceptible at first. But to her trained senses—years of interviewing killers, theorizing death—it was unmistakable: microphones. Cameras. Motion sensors. Someone was watching.
The room she found herself in was a library, tall shelves heavy with dusty tomes. Light streamed in from the windows, but it felt artificial, sterile. She touched the glass and rapped her knuckles. The sound echoed against steel shutters behind the windows. No escape.
Dash Varela had been moving since before the others woke. Doors, windows, walls—everything reinforced. Nothing budged. His sneakers squeaked on the polished marble floors of what was clearly the mansion’s main hall.
One by one, the others gathered: Saffron trembling near the velvet armchair, Mira scanning walls, Jayden muttering curses, and Riley Chang—the ASMR streamer—standing silently, her gaze locked on the massive plasma screen above the fireplace.
Then came Kian Rael, grinning like a gamer about to livestream the ultimate challenge. “Guys,” he said, voice low, “we’re live. Millions of people are watching right now.”
“Watching what?” Saffron asked, voice quivering.
The screen flickered. The red glow of the room dimmed as bold white letters burned across the black:
🟥 WELCOME TO THE GAME.
Your fans are here.
You are theirs.
Each challenge will be voted on in real time.
No skips. No ties. No mercy.
Survive the week. Win your life.
Let’s play.
Below the message, the live chat feed scrolled:
💬 LIVE CHAT
-
“OMG IS THIS REAL??”
-
“Cut the rope!!”
-
“Saffron dies first lol”
-
“Legal?? Not sure… but YESSSS”
A scream tore through the mansion from somewhere deep inside, echoing off walls of polished marble and carved wood.
Saffron froze. Jayden froze. Mira’s breath caught in her throat. Dash’s hands tensed into fists. Riley’s eyes widened. Kian leaned closer to the screen, eyes shining with fear and excitement.
Somewhere in the shadows, the game had begun.
Chapter Two — The First Choice
The scream came first, echoing down the grand hallway like metal scraping bone.
Saffron’s knees buckled as she grabbed Dash’s arm. “What… what was that?” Her voice barely rose above a whisper.
“It’s the game,” Jayden said, pacing. “They warned us. No mercy. That scream? Someone’s next.”
Mira knelt, inspecting a dark stain on the carpet. “Or someone’s already gone. We don’t even know what’s real.”
Riley stepped closer to the massive screen above the fireplace. Her hands shook slightly, almost imperceptibly. “Look. There’s a new message.”
The screen flickered, then a video appeared. A painting stood on an easel in the parlor. Grotesque and warped, the image was of Saffron herself—her mouth sewn shut with black thread, eyes dripping like wet paint, and her face twisted into a silent scream. A thick rope dangled from the ceiling beside it.
A timer appeared in the corner: 01:30.
🔴 LIVE VOTE: Burn the painting or Cut the rope?
[🔥] Burn the painting
[✂️] Cut the rope
Saffron stared at the screen, frozen. “It’s… me. What the hell is this?”
Jayden stepped closer. “Relax, it’s a prank. It has to be. Whoever’s running this is insane—but it’s fake.”
Mira shook her head, her fingers brushing the screen. “You don’t understand. Look at the rope. That’s not decoration. This is a choice—someone could die. Maybe one of us.”
Dash moved toward the rope, testing its weight. “We can’t wait for the timer to run out. We have to do something.”
Riley’s voice trembled. “Or we’ll all pay for it. It’s voting. The… the audience decides. We don’t get a say.”
The live chat began to explode in real time:
💬 LIVE CHAT
-
“Cut it!! I wanna see what happens!!!”
-
“Burning is boring. Rope ftw.”
-
“They should’ve killed Jayden first lol.”
-
“OMG this is insane. #UnmaskedChallenge”
-
“64% CUT THE ROPE. LET’S GO.”
Dash hesitated. “It’s them or us. Do we—”
Before he could finish, the rope mechanism clicked.
A section of floor beneath the painting slid open with a mechanical groan. Inside was a black box, cold metal and sealed shut. Jayden kicked it lightly. A beep. The box unlocked.
Kian knelt and lifted the lid. Inside, a phone flashed with a notification:
PLAYER 7: ELIMINATED
Cause of Death: Strangulation
Your choice was noted.
The group froze.
Saffron swallowed hard. “Seven? There are only six of us.”
Mira’s eyes narrowed. “That’s not the point. Someone’s dead. And it could be one of us next. Or… someone already is.”
Riley shivered. “The rope… the painting… we don’t know which—”
A new notification buzzed on the same phone:
NEXT CHALLENGE INCOMING
Player selected: Mira
Reveal a secret… or someone dies.
Saffron grabbed Mira’s arm. “Your secret?”
Mira’s jaw tightened. She closed her eyes and let her hands shake. “I… I left my sister alone in the car. She drowned. I told everyone I was just inside for a minute. It was forty-five.”
The screen changed, and the audience voted:
💬 LIVE CHAT
-
“Knew she was shady.”
-
“This is better than Netflix.”
-
“She survived?? lol”
The vote came back: Secret Accepted. No death.
A small, collective sigh of relief passed through the group. But the cameras didn’t blink. The screen didn’t go dark.
They were still watching.
And the next vote would be even worse.
Chapter Three — The Buried
The basement smelled of damp earth and metal.
Saffron’s hands trembled as she followed the narrow stairway down. The red glow from the overhead lights made the shadows seem alive, curling against the walls like black smoke. Every step echoed. Every echo screamed.
At the bottom, the others were already there, tied to opposite corners of the room. Thick ropes bit into their wrists and ankles.
Jayden’s eyes widened as he took in the sight. A shallow pit, freshly dug, stretched in the center of the floor. A lever dangled from the ceiling, connected to some mechanism above. The sound of dripping water echoed in the distance.
Dash stepped forward, fists clenched. “Okay… what the hell now?”
The screen flickered to life above the pit, bright and cold.
🔴 VOTE: Let her go or Bury him alive?
[🔓] Let Saffron go
[⚰️] Bury Jayden alive
The live chat erupted, faster than they could read:
💬 LIVE CHAT
-
“Bury him! BURY HIM!”
-
“No, let her go!!”
-
“This is terrifying. I can’t watch.”
-
“64% BURY JAYDEN. LET’S GO.”
Riley’s hands shook as she tried to pull on the ropes. “They’re really going to… they’re really going to—”
“Stop panicking!” Mira snapped. “We have to think. If we interfere, we die too. Remember the rope last time?”
Saffron swallowed, her mouth dry. “But we can’t just—”
A mechanical groan filled the room. The lever above the pit shifted slightly, then locked into place. The first votes were being counted.
Jayden’s grin faltered. “Well… this is it, huh?”
Dash stepped close to him. “Stay calm. We survive this.”
The screen updated: Vote Finalized — 73% Bury Jayden Alive
Jayden’s eyes widened. “No. No. NO.”
The pit’s walls began to descend, metal plates forming a coffin-like structure around him. Jayden struggled, screaming. His voice bounced off the concrete walls.
Saffron wanted to run forward, but her ropes held firm. Dash tugged at the mechanism, trying to stop it, but it didn’t budge.
Riley’s soft voice whispered, almost to herself: “This is… too real.”
The sound of dirt shifting, metal grinding, and a scream that ripped through every corner of the basement filled the space.
And then, silence.
The screen flickered again. A new notification appeared on the same black box from before:
PLAYER 1: ELIMINATED
Cause of Death: Asphyxiation
Your choice was noted.
Saffron’s knees buckled. Mira grabbed her arm. “It’s just… it’s just the game,” she said, voice tight. But even as she said it, her own hands shook.
Dash slammed a fist against the wall. “This isn’t a game anymore. This is… this is murder.”
Riley pressed her face to the wall, tears streaking her pale cheeks. “And we’re next.”
Kian was silent, staring at the screen, a manic grin slowly spreading across his face. “They’re not stopping,” he muttered. “They love this.”
Somewhere deep in the mansion, the cameras continued to blink. Watching. Recording. Waiting.
And the next vote… the next choice would be even worse.
Chapter Four — Isolation
The mansion was alive.
Not alive in the way a house creaks in the wind, or floors groan under weight. No. This was deliberate. Every door that once promised escape now led to dead ends. Corridors twisted, hallways seemed longer than memory allowed, and the red glow of the lights shifted almost like breathing.
Saffron, Mira, Dash, Riley, and Kian had barely slept—or dared. The basement incident had left Jayden gone, buried by the audience’s vote, his screams still echoing in their minds. The screens flashed a reminder: PLAYER 1: ELIMINATED. YOUR CHOICE MATTERED.
Mira shook her head. “This… this isn’t just a house. It’s a trap. And it’s changing around us.”
Dash ran a hand through his hair. “I’ve seen enough escape rooms to know this isn’t normal. And I’ve climbed enough walls to know there’s no easy way out.”
Riley sat quietly in a corner, fingers gripping the arms of a chair. “I… I can hear them,” she whispered. “Not the fans. The… the cameras. They’re whispering. I feel them—watching, judging. It’s like it’s alive.”
Kian laughed, dark and hollow. “You’re losing it. This is content. Millions are watching. Every reaction we have, every fear—they love it. And trust me… it only gets worse.”
The first separation came quietly.
Doors that had once led to communal areas suddenly slammed shut behind them, locking automatically. Saffron tried to open hers—locked. Mira pulled at hers—locked. Dash pounded at a metal barrier in the hallway. Kian’s screams echoed down the twisting corridor as the house shifted again. Riley pressed herself to the wall, staring at the empty hallway where her friends had been.
A new screen flickered in the center of each room.
🔴 LIVE VOTE: Who will face the next challenge alone?
Saffron
Mira
Dash
Riley
Kian
The countdown began.
💬 LIVE CHAT
-
“Riley! Make her scared!”
-
“Kian deserves it lol”
-
“Saffron is weak. Pick her.”
-
“This is insane… I can’t look.”
The votes rolled in. The mansion seemed to respond with every click, the lights pulsing red.
Final vote: Saffron
A wall slid open in front of her, revealing a long, narrow hallway lined with mirrors. Each mirror reflected her face, but subtly wrong. Her eyes blackened in some. Her mouth stitched in others. She stumbled backward.
Meanwhile, Mira, Dash, Riley, and Kian were left behind, panic rising.
Dash muttered, “This is a psychological game now. Isolation. Fear. They’re watching how we break.”
Riley shook. “We’re… we’re not going to last.”
Mira tried to stay rational. “We have to move. If the house is alive, it might be testing us. Maybe… maybe there’s a pattern.”
Kian’s grin returned, more chilling than before. “No pattern. Just chaos. And they vote on it. Every vote decides life or death. That’s all there is.”
Saffron’s hallway ended in a small chamber. In the center was a pedestal, and on it, a single black envelope.
She approached, hands shaking. A camera above her head followed her every move.
INSIDE THE ENVELOPE:
“Reveal a personal truth. Or watch someone else suffer.”
Her stomach turned. The house, the audience, the cameras—they weren’t just testing survival. They were testing morality, fear, trust.
Saffron pressed her fingers to the envelope. Sweat dripped down her spine. If she failed… someone would die because of her.
The walls pulsed red. The mansion was alive, and it had her alone.
Chapter Five — Betrayal
Saffron’s hands shook as she lifted the flap of the black envelope. The message inside wasn’t just chilling—it was personal.
“Reveal a personal truth… or someone dies. Your choice will be broadcast live.”
Her throat went dry. Sweat ran down her back. Her heartbeat thudded in her ears like a war drum. She glanced at the cameras, at the mirrors lining the walls, all reflecting versions of herself—twisted, stitched, screaming silently.
She couldn’t do it. She couldn’t confess to a stranger—or millions of strangers—what she had buried inside. But the alternative… someone else would die because of her hesitation.
With a trembling breath, she whispered, “Fine. I’ll… I’ll do it.”
Her confession poured out, raw and ragged: the secrets she’d hidden behind her polished social media persona, the lies to sponsors, the betrayals of friends, the selfish choices she’d made to rise to fame.
The screen above her lit up:
💬 LIVE CHAT
-
“Wow, she’s crying. Perfect.”
-
“Tell us more!!”
-
“I can’t believe this is real.”
The vote was already in motion. For a moment, Saffron felt a strange relief—the audience seemed satisfied.
Then the walls shuddered.
Meanwhile, Mira, Dash, Riley, and Kian were grouped in the grand hall. Their nerves were fraying. The house had them trapped in a cycle of fear, waiting for the next vote, the next challenge, the next death.
“I don’t trust anyone anymore,” Dash muttered. “We can’t. Not after Jayden…” His gaze fell on Kian, who grinned like a predator.
“What? Relax. I’m still here, aren’t I?” Kian’s voice was calm, too calm. “We all want to survive, right? But… survival means thinking ahead. Sometimes thinking ahead means making choices people don’t like.”
Mira’s eyes narrowed. “You mean betraying people.”
“Maybe,” Kian said, shrugging. “It’s not betrayal if the house makes the rules.”
Riley shivered. “It feels like betrayal.”
The screen flickered, bringing them back to the reality of the game.
🔴 LIVE VOTE: Who will face the next challenge?
Mira
Dash
Riley
Kian
The timer ticked down. Votes poured in from the audience, thousands of them.
💬 LIVE CHAT
-
“Dash! He’s too cocky.”
-
“Riley seems fragile… perfect.”
-
“Kian would make a great villain.”
-
“Mira needs to face this alone.”
The final vote was revealed: Dash
Dash stepped forward, hands raised, trying to keep calm. “This isn’t fair,” he growled, struggling against the ropes now binding him to a pedestal in the center of the hall. “You can’t—”
A mechanism above the pedestal clicked. Sharp hooks dropped from the ceiling, swinging just above his shoulders.
Saffron’s stomach churned. “They’re going to… they’re going to do it.”
Dash’s eyes met Kian’s. A subtle smirk played across the streamer’s face. “Sorry,” Kian whispered.
“What do you mean—” Dash began, but before he could finish, the hooks swung forward, cutting close enough to make him flinch. He gasped, tension lacing his muscles.
The screen above the pedestal lit up:
CHOICES DECIDED.
The player faces the consequences.
Dash gritted his teeth. The audience’s votes dictated his fate, and the first hooks dropped slightly lower, just grazing his arms. Every twitch of the mechanism sent spikes of terror through the group.
Riley backed away, covering her mouth, tears streaming. “This… this isn’t a game anymore. Someone’s going to die, and it’s because we’re all here.”
Mira’s jaw tightened. “And soon, one of us will have to choose who lives and who dies… maybe even today.”
Kian stepped forward, seemingly excited. “You’re learning the rules. Survival is messy. And betrayal? That’s just part of the game.”
The mansion shuddered again, as if in approval. Cameras blinked. Screens glowed. The audience was watching, voting, loving every second.
And Dash was just the beginning.
Chapter Six — The Finale Begins
The mansion had changed again.
Corridors twisted in impossible ways, doors appeared where none existed before, and the red glow of the lights pulsed like a heartbeat. Every step the survivors took felt watched, measured, manipulated.
Saffron sat on the edge of a staircase, knees pulled to her chest, staring at the floor. Her hands still shook from the last challenge. She had survived, but the cost weighed on her. Each scream, each vote, replayed in her mind.
Dash, bandaged and limping from the hooks’ near-miss, paced the hallway. “This isn’t a game anymore. It’s torture. And we’re the lab rats.”
Mira ran her fingers along the wall. “The rules are clear. They’re feeding on fear. Every choice we make… every second we hesitate… the audience loves it.”
Riley’s voice was barely a whisper. “I… I can’t handle this. The cameras… the whispers… it’s like the house knows exactly what terrifies us.”
Kian, still grinning, leaned against a wall. “It’s simple. Adapt or die. Everyone’s scared. That’s entertainment. That’s survival.”
The screen above flickered. A timer appeared, counting down: 02:00.
🔴 LIVE VOTE: Who will face the next challenge?
Saffron
Mira
Dash
Riley
Kian
The group froze. They knew the vote would determine the next horror, and everyone silently realized: this time, no one might survive untouched.
💬 LIVE CHAT
-
“Saffron again!! Make her cry!”
-
“Dash deserves it for being cocky.”
-
“Riley seems fragile. PERFECT.”
-
“Kian is having too much fun… vote him.”
The final vote blinked into view: Riley
Riley’s eyes widened. She didn’t resist as mechanical arms emerged from the ceiling, moving silently and efficiently. A cage of glass descended around her, shimmering, enclosing her completely. The audience’s excitement filled the room through the glowing screen, thousands of comments flooding at once.
“TRUST THE AUDIENCE. SURVIVE OR SUFFER.”
The cage rattled as she struggled. Panic painted her face. “Please… no!” she cried, tears blurring her vision.
Saffron and Mira pressed against the glass walls, unable to reach her. Dash’s jaw clenched. “We’re next,” he muttered, a cold shiver running down his spine.
Kian, for the first time, looked uncertain. “This… is different. This is—” He stopped. The screen flickered, and the mansion seemed to pulse, the walls tightening, the lights dimming.
Then, a new message appeared on every screen:
FINAL RULES UPDATE
From this point forward, only one may survive.
Every challenge will determine who lives and who dies.
Betrayal will be rewarded. Trust will be punished.
The words made the group shiver. The house wasn’t just a prison—it was a judge, jury, and executioner.
Saffron looked at the others. “One of us… has to betray the rest. That’s how we survive.”
Dash’s eyes went cold. “Then it might as well be me. If it’s kill or be killed, I won’t hesitate.”
Mira shook her head, panic rising. “Or… maybe the audience chooses for us. Maybe they decide who betrays whom.”
Riley sobbed behind the glass cage, trapped, vulnerable, helpless.
Kian finally spoke. “Then it’s simple. Adapt, manipulate, survive. Whoever’s smart enough… wins. The rest…” He let the sentence hang in the air, implied.
The mansion hummed, lights pulsing like a living heartbeat. Cameras blinked. Screens glowed. The countdown continued. The audience waited.
And the game… was just beginning.
Chapter Seven — No Escape
The mansion had no mercy.
Every corner seemed to shift when they weren’t looking, hallways stretched longer than logic allowed, doors disappeared, and the red glow of the lights pulsed like the steady beat of a heart—slow, methodical, inescapable.
Saffron pressed her back to a wall, chest heaving. She had survived the previous challenges, but the mansion seemed to punish any hint of relief. The screens overhead flickered constantly, showing live feeds of the group, close-ups of terrified faces, and real-time chat reactions.
Dash paced, muttering under his breath. “We can’t trust the rules anymore. The cameras… the screens… it’s all rigged. Every challenge is designed to make us fight each other.”
Mira’s jaw was tight, eyes scanning the shadows. “Exactly. The audience is controlling everything now. They’re feeding on fear, and the mansion… it’s a trap. There’s no way out. None.”
Riley, still shaken from the glass cage, whispered from the corner. “I… I don’t think I can do this anymore. I can’t trust anyone.”
Kian, unnervingly calm, leaned against a wall. “That’s the point. Trust is the luxury they take away first. If you survive, it’s because you don’t trust anyone at all.”
The screens flickered again, and a new challenge appeared:
🔴 LIVE VOTE: Who betrays their closest ally?
Saffron → Mira
Dash → Riley
Kian → Saffron
The countdown began, two minutes on the clock.
💬 LIVE CHAT
-
“Kian should betray Saffron! LOL”
-
“Dash vs Riley!!! THIS IS GOLD”
-
“Saffron is weak, make her turn!”
-
“Mira won’t do it. She’s too moral. PICK HER.”
Dash’s hands shook as he glanced at Riley. “You… you need to survive. I… I can’t. I won’t hesitate if they vote me out.”
Riley’s eyes were wide, tears streaking her face. “What do you mean? You… you’re my friend!”
Dash didn’t answer. The cage above Riley’s corner rattled again—just a reminder of how close the mansion could get to delivering death in an instant.
Saffron’s stomach churned as Kian’s eyes met hers. “You’re mine,” he said softly. “Or… I’m theirs. Depends on the audience.”
Mira swallowed hard. “We’re being forced. Every choice is a trap. Betrayal isn’t even optional.”
The timer hit zero.
The screens blinked red. The mansion rumbled.
Dash hesitated, then lunged—not at Riley, but at the nearest lever controlling a trap in the floor. The audience had voted, but survival instincts took over. Sparks flew from the mechanism, and the floor beneath Riley’s feet shuddered violently. She screamed, clinging to the edge as a pit slid open below her.
Saffron dove forward, grabbing Riley’s arm. “No! Stop it!”
But the screens glowed again:
Betrayal Executed. PLAYER SURVIVES: Dash
Riley faces consequences. The audience decides.
The pit opened fully, revealing spikes at the bottom. Riley’s scream echoed as she dangled, suspended by the ropes the audience had voted on. Saffron tried to pull her up, but the ropes burned her hands.
Mira’s hands shook. “We can’t save her… we can’t fight the audience. It’s… it’s all of us against them now.”
Kian’s grin returned. “See? Survival is about one thing—who’s smart enough to betray first. And I? I’m always first.”
The mansion groaned. Red lights pulsed faster, almost like a heartbeat in overdrive. The cameras captured every terrified expression, every desperate movement, every betrayal.
And the audience? They were loving it.
Chapter Eight — The Final Players
The mansion had become a labyrinth of fear.
Corridors twisted at impossible angles. Walls shifted silently. Floors groaned, and shadows moved where shadows shouldn’t exist. Every red light pulsed like a heartbeat—mocking, relentless, alive.
Saffron limped along a narrow hallway, bruises from her last struggle throbbing. Her hands still shook. Mira trailed behind, silent, eyes darting to every corner. Dash followed, tense and calculating, while Kian’s grin never wavered. Riley had survived the pit—barely—but she walked with a limp, each step a reminder of the stakes.
The screens flickered again.
🔴 LIVE VOTE: The next challenge will decide who moves forward.
Saffron
Mira
Dash
Kian
Riley
💬 LIVE CHAT
-
“Saffron is weak. Vote her out!”
-
“Dash is too smart. Kill him.”
-
“Riley for the win. Let’s see her survive.”
-
“Kian’s going to betray everyone. Love it!”
The timer counted down, the mansion vibrating as if it sensed the votes.
The walls suddenly shifted. Each player was flung into a separate chamber, doors slamming shut behind them. Panic erupted.
Saffron found herself in a mirrored room again. The reflections were distorted—each one her own face, but screaming, stitched, twisted into fear. The screen above her lit up:
CHALLENGE: Survive the mirrors or face elimination.
Her reflection grinned before she did. She stumbled backward, heart hammering. Every mirror threatened to trap her, every reflection another threat.
Mira was in a chamber lined with sharp, hanging blades suspended from the ceiling. The screen above her blinked:
CHALLENGE: Cross safely or be sliced.
She took a breath, measured each step. Every miscalculation meant death. Her hands shook as she reached for the first platform, knowing millions were watching, voting, loving every second.
Dash’s room was a maze of pressure plates. One wrong step and the floor would collapse, plunging him into a pit of spikes. He moved cautiously, calculating every move. The mansion hummed around him, watching. The audience’s votes decided whether he would live or die.
Kian’s chamber was different. Cameras swiveled automatically, following him as wires descended from the ceiling. The screen above flashed:
CHALLENGE: Betray another to survive.
Kian smiled. This was his game. He thrived on manipulation. The mansion and the audience were extensions of his instincts.
Riley’s chamber was the cruelest. She stood on a thin ledge above a pit, the walls closing slowly, reducing the space with every passing second. A screen above her flashed a simple message:
LIVE VOTE: Should Riley survive?
💬 YES / NO
The pit below shifted slightly with mechanical precision. Every heartbeat felt like a countdown to her death.
Time stretched. The mansion vibrated with each vote.
Saffron dodged a reflection, heart racing. Mira ducked under a swinging blade. Dash calculated every step, careful, controlled. Kian laughed softly, enjoying the chaos. Riley’s knees trembled, and tears streaked her cheeks.
The mansion’s heartbeat accelerated. The screens blinked. Cameras swiveled. The votes rolled in.
Finally, the messages appeared:
SURVIVORS DECIDED.
Player eliminated: Mira
Cause of death: Mechanical Blades
Audience choice: Mercy denied
A scream echoed through the chambers. Mira’s final movements were broadcast to everyone, a reminder of how merciless the game had become.
Saffron’s legs trembled. Dash’s hands shook. Riley’s tears fell. Kian’s grin widened.
The mansion pulsed with life, red lights glowing brighter. Cameras blinked. Screens glowed. The audience was ecstatic.
And the endgame was near.
Chapter Nine — No Mercy
The mansion had become a living nightmare.
Red light pulsed against polished walls. Shadows stretched unnaturally, twisting into shapes that seemed almost human. Every heartbeat Saffron felt was mirrored in the mansion itself—steady, relentless, inescapable.
Only three remained.
Saffron, Dash, and Kian.
Riley and Mira were gone—eliminated by the audience’s votes, their screams lingering in memory, a constant reminder that survival demanded more than skill. It demanded ruthlessness.
The screens lit up.
🔴 FINAL CHALLENGE: Only one may survive. Betrayal and cunning will decide your fate.
Saffron
Dash
Kian
💬 LIVE CHAT
-
“Saffron is too weak. Kill her!”
-
“Dash deserves it. Let’s see him fail.”
-
“Kian will betray everyone. YES.”
-
“The final showdown begins!”
The mansion shifted violently. The three were thrust into separate chambers again, doors slamming shut. The rooms were simple in concept, cruel in execution:
Saffron’s chamber: a narrow platform suspended over a pit of spikes. One wrong step and the audience would see her death broadcast live.
Dash’s chamber: a floor filled with pressure plates, each triggering spikes or fire. He had to navigate it perfectly—or die instantly.
Kian’s chamber: a mirror room filled with his own reflection—but one of the mirrors contained a trap that could instantly eliminate him.
The timer appeared: 05:00.
LIVE VOTE: Who survives the next five minutes?
💬 LIVE CHAT
-
“Saffron is weak. She’s done.”
-
“Dash is smart. He’ll figure it out.”
-
“Kian’s going down. Make him suffer!”
Saffron’s heart raced. She stepped carefully, feeling the edges of the platform with her toes. Her palms were sweaty, shaking. Every move was deliberate. One slip meant the spikes below—and the audience’s cruel laughter.
Dash moved like a machine, calculating every pressure plate. His muscles ached. His mind raced. Mistakes weren’t an option. Every second brought him closer to the audience’s mercy—or wrath.
Kian grinned at his own reflection, twisting and spinning. The mirrors distorted, showing his possible deaths. But instinct took over. He moved carefully, testing each step, knowing the audience’s eyes were on him.
Time slipped away.
The mansion pulsed, walls moving, traps adjusting, as if it was alive and feeding off their fear. The screen above flashed:
FINAL VOTES INCOMING…
Saffron’s knees buckled under the pressure. She felt dizzy. But she kept moving, trusting her instincts, pushing herself forward.
Dash’s calculations almost failed when a hidden spike triggered—but he leapt just in time, barely surviving.
Kian’s grin faltered when one mirror cracked violently. He had to make a choice: stay on course or risk the trap.
The mansion groaned. Red light flashed. Cameras swiveled.
Finally, the message appeared on every screen:
SURVIVOR DECIDED.
Winner: Saffron Beaumont
Congratulations. You lived.
Saffron collapsed to the floor, gasping, trembling. The mansion’s red glow dimmed slightly, but she didn’t care. She had survived.
Dash and Kian slumped, defeated but alive for now, but they were not chosen by the audience. Their chances were gone.
The mansion hummed as if acknowledging the conclusion. Cameras blinked. Screens glowed.
Saffron’s hands shook, tears blurring her vision. She had survived—but at what cost?
The mansion was empty now. Silent. The audience had decided. Only one had lived. And the screens—once alive with votes—blinked out.
Saffron rose, bruised and bleeding, her reflection in the mirrors showing her hollow, haunted face.
The game was over.
But the memory of every vote, every scream, every betrayal would never leave her.
Chapter Ten — Aftermath
Saffron sat alone in the center of the mansion’s main hall. The red lights were gone, replaced by the cold, sterile white of reality—or what passed for it. The cameras were off, the screens dark. Silence had returned.
She had survived. The audience had chosen her. But surviving didn’t feel like victory.
Every echo in the mansion reminded her of the screams, the betrayal, the terror. She could still hear Mira’s final cry, Riley dangling above the pit, Dash narrowly avoiding death, Kian’s grinning betrayal. Every moment, every choice, every vote—they all replayed like a horror loop in her mind.
Her hands shook as she lifted the black envelope from the floor. It was the last message.
CONGRATULATIONS, PLAYER. SURVIVAL IS YOUR REWARD.
Remember: Every choice has a cost. The audience never forgets.
Saffron’s stomach turned. She had survived, but she had no illusions. The mansion had changed her. Her mind would never be the same.
She stumbled toward the exit. The doors that had once been impossible now opened with ease. Sunlight spilled into the foyer. Birds chirped. Reality. The world outside existed—but it was foreign, alien after what she had endured.
Dash appeared behind her, bruised, beaten, glaring. “You… you survived. I didn’t.”
Kian emerged too, dark smirk fading into exhaustion. “They chose her. Not me, not you. Don’t pretend you understand.”
Saffron swallowed hard. “I survived… but at what cost? Everyone else… they’re gone. Because of the choices… because of the votes…”
Dash shook his head. “It wasn’t your choice. The audience decided. You just… happened to be lucky.”
Kian’s eyes were cold. “Lucky? Luck doesn’t explain how everyone else screamed for their lives while you walked out.”
Saffron’s hands clenched. “I… I don’t know if I can live with this. I don’t know if I want to.”
The mansion loomed behind them, silent, doors closed forever—or maybe just until the next game. Cameras had recorded everything. Every scream, every betrayal, every horrifying choice.
Somewhere in the world, the audience was still watching highlights, clips, reactions, laughing, voting, obsessed. They had played god. And Saffron had been their chosen survivor.
Days later, Saffron tried to sleep. Her dreams were haunted by the mansion’s corridors, the red glow, the screaming, the mirrors that reflected her deepest fears. She woke in cold sweat, fingers trembling, mind racing.
The mansion might have been left behind, but the game had never truly ended.
She realized, with a shiver, that survival wasn’t the end—it was a beginning. The Subscriber’s Choice had marked her. And no one, not even the audience, could take that away.
She would live. But she would never be the same.
Epilogue — The Price of Survival
The world outside the mansion felt unreal.
Saffron walked down crowded city streets, each face a blur. People laughed, argued, lived their mundane lives, oblivious to the horrors she had endured. She was alive, but the life she had returned to wasn’t hers anymore. The mansion—and the audience—had changed her forever.
News cameras followed her every step. Headlines screamed:
“SURVIVOR EMERGES FROM DEADLY LIVE GAME — THE SUBSCRIBER’S CHOICE”
“Saffron Beaumont: Only One Survives in Viral Live Death Challenge”
Fans clamored for interviews, for livestreams, for Saffron to recount the horrors she had endured. Every detail, every scream, every betrayal became content for consumption.
She agreed to a few interviews at first, trembling as she recounted her experience. But she stopped herself before revealing everything. Some memories were too dark, too raw.
At night, the mansion haunted her dreams. Red lights pulsed behind closed eyelids. Reflections twisted her face. Echoes of Mira, Riley, Dash, and Kian whispered in the corners of her mind. Sometimes she could almost hear the audience’s laughter, even in her silence.
Saffron began to avoid cameras. She stopped posting online. She didn’t answer messages. The world had survived with her—she had not survived intact.
One evening, while scrolling through her phone, she saw a notification from an unknown account. A single message:
“The game isn’t over. You’re marked. The audience waits.”
Her stomach turned. The mansion’s influence was still there, lurking like a shadow at the edge of her life. The thrill of control, the terror, the adrenaline—it had left a permanent mark.
Saffron looked out her window at the city lights, her hands trembling. She had survived, yes—but the audience had claimed something deeper than life or death. They had claimed her sanity, her peace, her innocence.
And somewhere, in the shadows, the mansion waited. Patient. Hungry. Ready for the next Subscriber’s Choice.
Saffron closed her eyes. She had escaped—but escape was never truly an ending.
The game would return. And when it did… would she be ready?
The End